December 24: Pilgrimage to the Star

Since my husband has been slaving away on a novel in all his free time for the past six months, we haven't gotten outside much together. Which is kind of ironic, because his novels are about a Maine game warden who spends a lot of time outdoors. Book written now and both of us having the day off today, we decided to make the most of it and go on a hike together. Our house looks up at Mount Battie, part of Camden Hills State Park (although the slope that faces us is actually conserved by Coastal Mountains Land Trust), so we decided to walk from home up the mountain and make a pilgrimage to the star on top (pictured below--it looks much lovelier when lit at night). We hiked up the Carriage Trail to the tower, and then slid down the icy ledges of the Summit Trail to get back down. The trails were busy, as lots of other folks had the same idea for enjoying the day--festive for its blue sky and sparkling views of the harbor and bay, if not for any snow cover. Happy Christmas Eve!

Mount Battie star not visible
from our house,
but waxing moon rises.

November 29: Snow and star

Driving home tonight as the snow was falling--gently but thoroughly--the lighted Santas on people's front lawns remained bright, but the lighted star on the tower atop Mount Battie was just a hazy blur.

Behind snow's swirl--
a full moon brighter
than holiday lights.

November 25: Tree lighting

Tonight Portland, Rockland, and probably many other towns are holding their tree lighting ceremonies, officially kicking off the holiday season. My husband and I are currently in a car driving home from Portland, so we're missing out. Instead we're enjoying the quotidien pageantry of headlights, taillights, and neon signs on shops from inside the warm car. And as we draw closer to Camden and anticipate a view of the Camden Hills, we're watching for something even better: tonight is the first night when Bob Oxton drives up Mount Battie to turn on the star erected on the tower. Any moment now, we're going to turn a corner and catch our first glimpse. I feel just like I did each Christmastime when I was a little kid and saw the lit star that first time.

Missed the tree lighting,
but the lit Mount Battie star
shines brightly once more.

November 28: Harp Seal

Thanks to the magic of the Internet, my husband and I were able to observe a harp seal in Camden Harbor this afternoon. He read a news story on Village Soup about a harp seal that had been photographed on the kayak floats in Camden Harbor on Thanksgiving. Then he saw on Facebook that a friend of ours had seen it chasing fish in the harbor this afternoon. So we decided to go try and see it.

The sun was just setting as we got to the public landing, casting a pink glow on the horizon behind Curtis Island. A lone loon drifted past, as we wandered down the pier to the kayak floats. And there was the seal--fat, happy, stretching itself on one of the floats. It seemed alert to the two couples watching it, but not alarmed. Several times it flapped its back feet, revealing that what looks like its tail is really two big feet with a small tail in between. It waved a front foot at us. It seemed to be showing off in a lazy, seal kind of way. Only when the church clock tolled four did it seem at all startled, tilting its pale face toward the sound, then relaxing again. We decided this big reclining creature would look right at home on a couch watching football.

A guy walking past told us it had been hanging out in the harbor for a week and a half. He said the Marine Resources people had checked it out and given it a clean bill of health. What it's doing this far south is a mystery, but a harp seal has been seen here before. Maybe this is the same one, back for another little vacation in warmer waters.

On the walk back along the pier to our car, we ran into a friend working on his fishing boat. As we chatted, the Mount Battie star lit up for the night, a magical moment.

Amid wrapped schooners,
harp seal, loon, lone fisherman.
Chilled couple watching.

November 26: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving! And so the holiday season officially begins. My husband and I spent a good day in southern Maine enjoying a bountiful meal with his family, grateful for sharing time and food with those we love. We returned home in rain, dark, and fog, and I was worried the heavy mist would obscure my favorite part of this special day--seeing the star on the Mount Battie tower lit up for the first night of the season. I didn't think we'd see it through the clouds, but my husband bet me a quarter we would. Sure enough, when we crested the hill past Simonton Corner, there it was: a blur of light seemingly floating in the night sky. We might not even have been aware of what we were seeing if we didn't know there was a small mountain ahead of us bearing a star of lights on its summit.

Rainy Thanksgiving.

First glimpse of Mount Battie star--

smear of misty light.

And then there are other local holiday traditions that make me smile. As we turned into our neighborhood, we could see how our neighbors the Wards had spent their Thanksgiving. When we hit the road this morning, a deflated turkey lay slumped on their lawn. Tonight, thousands of Christmas lights, reindeer, candy canes, inflatable Santas and snowmen bedeck their home and yard. During the holidays, this is the most-visited house in town. Even when I was a kid we would make a special side trip so we could marvel at their light show. Only a Scrooge would complain about the energy drained. Not to sound like a credit card ad, but traditions like these that invoke the joy and wonder of the holidays--a joy and wonder that have persisted since childhood--are priceless. The nights grow longer these last few weeks until the Solstice. But our spirit is strengthened by these lights, this star, in the darkness.